The upcoming French election should have politicians stirring. With unemployment and an economic crisis on hand, you would think political debate is focused on these large issues. Instead, the most prevalent matter of discourse seems to be the issue of Halal meat in France.

In order for meat to be considered Halal, the animal must be slaughtered in a specific manner and a prayer must be said. In this sense, the ritual of slaughtering an animal is similar to Kosher rituals. However, French politicians are now trying to pass a law that bans the slaughtering of meat in this manner, and thus have stirred up a debate about the “true French identity” and multiculturalism.

This issue was called into question when far-right politician, Jean-Marie Le Pen, made the claim that many French diners were unknowingly consuming Halal meat. While  it’s understandable why people want to know what they are eating, it’s not clear why this issue has become the crux of the French election.

From an animal rights perspective , a ban on no-stun slaughter may make sense. However, from the perspective  of human rights, it is wrong and unjust to prevent people from following the mandates of their religion, so long as it does not harm others. I do not see why eating Halal or Kosher meat would harm anyone who does not desire to eat the meat, but this is a problem that can easily be solved. Despite the fact that current president Sarkozy visited multiple slaughterhouses and confirmed that the majority of the meat in France is not Halal, this issue remains at the forefront of the election.

Why is this even a problem? If the majority of the French populous does not want to eat Halal meat, would it not be easier to enforce stricter labeling laws? Preventing not just one, but two, large religious groups from abiding by their religious mandates seems extreme, and much too harsh a reaction to an unsubstantiated remark.

What I cannot grasp is why this is such a seemingly important issue in the election. With larger problems to worry about, who has the time or effort to care about an issue that only concerns certain members of the French population? This seems like a problem that can easily be solved; there is no reason for it to be a matter of such concern. Banning Halal meat in school cafeterias serves no greater purpose other than to further an agenda that is staunchly against multiculturalism.

This ban would hurt the French economy, which is already fragile enough as it is. By preventing the ritual slaughter of animals in line with Islamic and Judaic mandates, the French government is effectively banning a multi-billion dollar industry.

Ultimately, the debate about Halal meat is a proxy debate about multiculturalism, and it should not have a place in the upcoming election. Politicians should focus on actual issues-an increasing unemployment rate and a crumbling economy, not the personal dietary habits of their citizens.

I’ve often wondered why this sinister image doesn’t simply go away. Why has this image persisted in the face of a storm of political change in the past two decades? Why hasn’t it disappeared with the advent of the new India, the shining India of the free economy? I’ve come to the stark and uncomfortable conclusion that it cannot go away because there is no political persona of stature and charisma to make it vanish.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a proud and patriotic Indian. All I’m saying is that stirring rhetoric in the class of ‘This was their finest hour…’ or ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can for your country…’ isn’t Dr. Manhoman Singh’s forte, nor is it P. Chidambaram’s, nor is it Pranab Mukherjee’s. There is no Congress higher up who is simply put, that good.

When the economy opened up in 1992, Indians changed dramatically. Gone were the tweed suits, the oiled hair, the thick black glasses, and flabby old bureaucrats intent on ensuring that you had successfully obtained the thirty ninth license you needed to set up a type-writer maintenance factory in some forgotten by – lane between Kalighata and Kolkata. In were Italian ties, gelled hair, foreign educations, and a new urban you that suddenly wasn’t very different from urban youth elsewhere. These young people watched American sitcoms instead of Doordarshan and ran on treadmills with their MP3 players running on full volume. They were an urban youth that was informed and sick of the way the country was being run.

There’s a stain on this rosy picture, though. This new urban youth, for all its flash, for all its rebellion, has failed to produce politicians. Notice how I say politicians, because there is no lack of leaders, it just seems as if the private sector seems to gobble talent up. People would only laugh at me if I began to speak of a career in politics in the same way as I speak of a career in the financial services or in law or in engineering. It’s just not done that way. You only get into politics if your mother or father is in politics, who themselves probably only got into politics because their mothers or fathers were in politics, ad infinitum. Or at least that’s how it seems from where I’m sitting in the Indian rainbow. Rahul Gandhi seems to be an inspiring chap, but he’ll probably be a grandfather by the time he’s prime minister, and there’s simply no way of getting around the fact that inspiration can only take you so far if your mom’s not Sonia Gandhi.

The Hindustan Times, in collaboration with Rutgers University, recently conducted a massive survey of Indian nationals studying in the United States. Of those surveyed, 92% wanted to seek a career back home on completing their studies. They spoke excitedly of corporate jobs, of entrepreneurship opportunities, of big ideas, of big dreams – but not of politics. Getting into that dirty business doesn’t seem very enticing when there’s no one inspiring enough to make running a country seem worthwhile. It’s easy to see how a phenomenon can become cyclical – gone are the Nehrus and Vallabhai Patels , the Rajagopalacharis and the Jayprakash Narayans, residents of an era that doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to return. And that is the greatest tragedy of the world’s largest democracy.